


After Hours

by MsTrick



Series: Polished Twitter Threads [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Collars, Dominance, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Rough Sex, Self-Acceptance, Smut, Spanking, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22359499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsTrick/pseuds/MsTrick
Summary: In which Jack and Gabriel realize neither of them has had great sex since they stopped sleeping together and decide to do something about it.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: Polished Twitter Threads [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765933
Comments: 28
Kudos: 245





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😍 😍 😍 The amazing [Ufficiosulretro](https://twitter.com/ufficiosulretro) has BLESSED THIS FIC with the most delicious fan art!!!

# # #

# # #

Overwatch headquarters had a bar on the ground floor, a little, windowless thing tucked behind the lobby, accessible only to those with high security clearance. A necessary space for the mental health of the organization’s higher-ups, who knew better than to fully relax in public.

Jack stepped inside at some ungodly hour of the night, too tired to care that Gabriel was already in there. Otherwise, the bar was empty, silent except for the quiet electroswing spilling from the speakers. The bartender, a four-armed Omnic, began preparing his usual whiskey, triple the portion of a normal drink.

“Make it a quad tonight,” Jack said, settling onto a barstool, three down from Gabriel’s.

As the Omnic added another shot to the glass, he heard a familiar snicker and clenched his jaw, resisting the spiteful urge to tell Gabriel it was his damn fault Jack was stuck in the office. The fallout from Rialto was never-ending. This museum was suing for damages and that media mogul was calling for the dissolution of Overwatch and this other government now wanted them to produce evidence to prove that Blackwatch hadn’t been involved in certain incidents in the past.

Jack took his first sip of whiskey with relish.

“Heard you found time to have a date,” Gabriel rumbled.

“I did,” Jack said curtly.

“With one of Zurich’s illustrious city councilors, no less.”

Jack made a noise of annoyance and considered downing his whiskey in one go, but he wasn’t giving Gabriel the satisfaction of driving him from the bar.

“Using your resources to spy on me? Maybe I should restrict them further.”

Ice cubes clinked as Gabriel finished his drink and ordered another of that awful Kahlua/Fireball/triple sec monstrosity of a cocktail. He said it was the only thing that got him drunk since Moira began tinkering with his cells.

“I’d hardly need subterfuge to keep track of your meager sex life,” Gabriel drawled. “Tabloids have that covered. With photos. Tell me, is the inside of the councilor’s house as unbearably minimalist as the outside? I’m dying to know.”

“Could you drop the cynicism for all of five seconds?” Jack asked, irritated at his inability to resist responding to Gabriel. Even now, when they’d both swear there was nothing left to say to each other.

“Why bother?” Gabriel retorted. “If I ask you how it went, you will say ‘Fine’ and take another gulp of whiskey, implying the date was at best boring and at worst straight up shitty.”

“For black ops, you're rather tactless.”

“For a strike commander, you're rather predictable.”

These digs, made in earnest once, had faded into something familiar, a reminder of how well they knew each other's weak points. They were poking at bruises rather than delivering new injuries.

“So, it didn’t end the way you wanted,” Gabriel surmised, glancing sideways at Jack, analyzing him. “What, was he too nice to put out?”

“Who says I didn't get laid?”

“Your blue balls.”

“You’re wrong. Second time I've slept with him.”

“And if I ask you how it went, you will say ‘Fine’ and take another gulp of whiskey, implying that—"

“Alright, alright.” Jack couldn’t help the dry huff of laughter that escaped him, in spite of the mountain of antagonism.

Gabriel would know better than anyone what Jack looked like sexually frustrated, the energy rumbling through his veins and keeping him on edge, the way his hands fidgeted.

“It was… pleasant,” Jack said at last. “That was all.”

“Thought you'd want pleasant these days. Mix things up.”

Gabriel actually sounded curious.

“It's not that I don't want it...” Jack said slowly.

“You just can't relax. Might hurt someone.”

Jack looked over at him. “Sounds like you're speaking from experience.”

Gabriel studied the fresh drink the bartender set down. “In the few and far between opportunities I have to get laid, yes. Not exactly a wealth of people with enhanced strength out there.”

“Tried Reinhardt?”

A laugh burst out of Gabriel and fuck if that didn’t still do things to Jack’s insides. 

“Reinhardt," Gabriel chuckled, shaking his head. “Very straight and very sensitive Reinhardt.”

Jack permitted himself a small smile. It was hard to shake the pleasure and pride of being able to crack Gabriel’s composure. It was one of the foundations their friendship had been built on, and they’d been friends for a long time. The flicker of mirth in Jack’s chest died as he considered that their friendship might have ceased to exist without him noticing.

“There's a solution here,” Gabriel said bluntly.

Jack glanced at his mouth. He knew what that mouth could do, the bad decisions it could talk him into, the breathless whining mess it could reduce him to. Funny how bright and clear those memories were.

Funny how they could block out the lies and the professional differences and the mean silences. Jack shook his head. The past should never blind one to the present.

“As fun as our relationship ending the first time was, I'm good,” he said.

“Did we actually break up?” Gabriel mused. “Officially?”

“Yes, you ass.” The tiniest of smiles played at the corners of Jack’s lips. “Did you want written confirmation?”

“On Overwatch stationery, yes, please.”

An almost friendly lull settled over them even as the words dried up. When Gabriel ordered another drink, the Omnic said:

“Begging your pardon, sir, but we’ve run out of Fireball.”

“So, go buy some. There’s a liquor store two blocks away.”

“It’s highly unprofessional for a bartender to abandon his post.”

After some more back and forth, Gabriel managed to persuade the nervous Omnic to go on his errand. Alone with one another, the silence seemed to expand between them.

It was Gabriel who broke it, moving closer to fill the seat next to Jack.

“We're not made for anyone else, are we?"

“Don't say shit like that,” Jack sighed.

“Prove me wrong.”

“Just because we're unique doesn't mean we're good for each other.”

“We were good _together_ though.”

“You always reach for poetic sentiment when you’re horny,” Jack scoffed. “It’d be less manipulative if you just said what you wanted. This was one of the reasons we didn’t work.”

He finished his drink and set the empty glass down. Gabriel’s thumb and forefinger caught Jack’s chin, unshaven and scratchy. And Jack convinced himself that letting Gabriel turn his head to face him wouldn’t lead to anything, that Gabriel’s closeness wasn’t the first step of a mistake, that he’d put a stop to this soon.

When Gabriel spoke next, his words brushed Jack’s lips.

“It wasn't all bad.” Gabriel’s eyes glinted. “Was it, puppy?”

The back of Jack's neck burned. He jerked his head out of Gabriel’s hold, overheating in his clothes, and held his empty glass with both hands.

Gabriel gave him an incredulous look.

“Ten years later and you're still blushing from that?”

“Knock it off.”

“Alright. Tell me you don’t want it and I’ll knock it off.”

Jack struggled to raise his eyes but he could hear the smirk in Gabriel’s voice.

Did he want this? YES and NO warred loudly in his mind.

Jack could barely admit to himself how much he’d enjoyed it, the pet name, the collar and leash, how relinquishing control freed him from decisions and responsibility. Even when they were still together, he couldn’t bring himself to ask Gabriel to do it as often as he wanted. He hated what it said about him, even though Gabriel insisted it said nothing.

Jack had no idea how to believe that, then or now. How could it say nothing about him? He’d been on his knees, face buried into the sheets, leather fitted around his neck, the leash wound tight around Gabriel’s palm, tugging just hard enough to strain his breathing while Gabriel fucked him raw, and he’d loved it.

More than loved it. He’d been whining like a bitch in heat, dick heavy and dripping between his spread thighs, lost to it.

These were memories Jack couldn’t look at head-on. He glanced at them out of the corner of his eye, mortified he’d submitted to such things, mortified he wanted to do it again.

One time stood out to him, particularly glaring, like an open flame he couldn’t stare at for too long, couldn’t get too close to lest the heat scald him. They’d been in the kitchen of Jack’s apartment, of all places.

Gabriel had dragged him in there by the collar and bent him over the countertop, ordered him to hold onto the edge as Gabriel pounded into him hard enough to rattle the cabinets.

Jack cried out as his head was yanked back, the grip in his hair tight enough to sting. The thrusts slowed and abruptly stopped. A drop of lube dripped out of him and trekked down the inside of his thigh. Gabriel’s muscled chest was solid against his back, both of them slick with sweat.

Gabriel remained thick and hard inside him, the head of his cock just barely grazing Jack’s prostate, the light pressure unbearably tantalizing. Jack couldn’t help squirming, trying to bear down on the pleasure. But the hold in his hair kept him immobile.

Gabriel’s breath was in his ear, teeth skimming the tender lobe.

“You need my cock that badly?”

Jack swallowed hard, Adam’s apple constricted by the leather collar. He nodded. A warm, callused thumb ran over his bottom lip and Jack’s mouth opened for it.

“Tongue out,” Gabriel growled in a voice of dark chocolate and bourbon. “I want you to pant for it.”

Even as Jack’s dignity balked, his arousal spiked, hot and almost painful, behind his balls.

Face on fire, Jack stuck his tongue out, his harsh breaths coasting out over it until he was properly panting like a dog.

He was sure he looked like an idiot, but the strain in Gabriel’s voice revealed just how affected he was by seeing Jack this way.

“Good boy,” he rasped.

Jack felt the cock inside him jump, striking a spark of pleasure, and experienced a delirious sense of satisfaction at being so desired like this.

The grip in his hair loosened and Jack groaned as blood rushed to his scalp, missing the pressure already. He was flushed from the praise, needing Gabriel to do more to him, to take more from him, to make it so he couldn’t think.

It was easy to keep panting like a puppy when it urged Gabriel to resume fucking into him. Jack shuddered with the pleasure, crackles of ecstasy at the base of his spine and the comfort of Gabriel’s large hand snug around his throat, one finger slipping beneath the leather.

“Who’s my good boy?”

Jack bucked back into him and groaned again, uncaring of how wounded and needy the noise sounded.

He let out a shocked gasp as a hand cracked across his right ass cheek, setting his nerve endings off like fireworks. His skin tingled hot where the hit had landed.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned into the counter, forehead dropping.

When a hand cracked over the other cheek, Jack gave a full body shiver, the pain melding with the pleasure of Gabriel sliding in and out of him, too much, too good.

“Asked you a question, puppy. Who’s my good boy?”

“I—I am.”

“That’s right.”

The embarrassment blurred into ecstasy as Gabriel’s thrusts sank deeper and harder, wringing the breath from Jack’s lungs, an orgasm blasting through him and boiling him down to a trembling mess even before Gabriel fisted his dick.

He came so hard, his grip fractured the edge of the counter. Wrecked and dazed, his cells felt loose and bubbly with bliss.

He didn’t remember Gabriel guiding him to bed or cleaning him up, but Jack recalled with perfect clarity how jittery he’d been the next day, how he'd anxiously waited for Gabriel to wield this weakness against him. But the mockery never arrived. It astonished him a little that Gabriel could treat him the same as he always had.

In the dim headquarters bar hung the unspoken: we could do it again.

Jack bit the inside of his cheek, mind and heart rattling off the list of reasons (and there were many) why this was a very bad idea.

And yet, he couldn't lie to Gabriel, couldn't look him in the eye and say he didn’t want it, even though it was such a cliché mistake to make – fucking your ex.

The desire tugged at his gut. He didn’t have to pursue it though. He was an adult. He didn’t have to follow Gabriel out of the bar, didn’t have to entangle their fingers in the back of the taxi and place Gabriel’s hand around his neck, didn’t have to let Gabriel crowd him into the door as soon as they were inside his apartment.

He didn’t have to do any of that.

But he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a [Twitter thread](https://twitter.com/MsTrick16/status/1219505662180200448) ;) Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spicy NSFW art below!**
> 
> The incredible [Ventiskull](https://twitter.com/ventiskull) brought my smut to life and it's just SO GORGEOUS AND SEXY I CAN'T EVEN
> 
> >―(〃°ω°〃)♡→

For a few seconds, they stood in the dark, breaths blending. Then Gabriel caught his mouth in a rough motion and there it was, here they were, connected again after so many years, the soft heat spreading through their veins, reminding them. I know you. I know what makes you forget to breathe. I know what makes you scream.

A sharp sigh stuck in Jack's throat. Nobody else could kiss him with such irreverence and promise. It was the high of a drug he'd supposedly quit. Gabriel let out a self-satisfied chuckle and the arrogance pissed Jack off but it also melted his bones, kicked into gear the part of him that wanted nothing more than that arrogance to roll right through him.  
  
Gabriel fumbled for Jack's wrists, dragged them up and pinned them to the door by his head. An “Ah” slipped from Jack's lips into Gabriel's, a momentary pause in their greedy kissing. Thinking of Jack’s earlier skittishness, Gabriel knew he had to start slow. For now, it was enough to just restrict Jack’s movements, to nip at his neck until the yearning for Gabriel to tighten something around it became too much and spilled out in low, shy pleas.

Defiling Strike Commander Jack Morrison had always been viscerally satisfying. The shinier the public polished that statue, the more Gabriel wanted to take bites out of him, obliterate him, fuck him full and hard until his mind boiled down to nothing, until their golden idol could only squirm and pant beneath him, glorious in his depravity and desperation, reduced to sweat and semen and sin.

But there was also something infinitely endearing about holding his Jack again, a body and a soul he knew as well as his own. Jack, who was eager to let Gabriel take bites of him, defile him, fuck his holes raw, because he trusted Gabriel to be unkind in the kindest ways, to be brutal and loving, to clear away the gold they kept painting over the reality of who he was.

Gabriel tugged Jack’s coat and shirt off, deliberate and romantic and slow enough to grate. This wasn’t what Jack wanted but Gabriel wouldn’t give it to him until he asked. It embarrassed Jack to hear his desires spoken aloud in his own voice, and that was the whole point.

Gabriel could tie him up and wreck his body, but it was Jack who had to break down the barriers in his mind, who had to open himself to it, who had to affirm to himself that he wanted it. Needed it.

Gabriel had stripped them both down to their briefs and maneuvered them to the couch before Jack’s impatience burst out of him in a loud sigh.

“Just get on with it.”

“Hm?” Gabriel propped himself up on an elbow so he could lazily smile down at Jack, enjoying the feel of their bodies together. “Get on with what?”

Jack’s jaw clenched.

“Can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is,” Gabriel drawled.

Panic sharpened by desire pricked Jack’s gut. He couldn’t do this. He pushed Gabriel off him and sat up, shaking his head. Every wrong Gabriel had done him – the reckless disregard of Jack’s requests and Overwatch’s protocols, the information he’d concealed, the lies he’d told – sounded in his brain, rationally reminding him that Gabriel couldn’t be trusted, so why the hell was Jack about to let him…to let him…

“Forget it. This is a mistake.”

He stood, feeling queasy, and made his way to where his clothes had landed on the floor. As he picked up his shirt with unsteady hands, he heard Gabriel approach.

Callused fingers stroked over his shoulder blades before Gabriel moved in closer, as though wary of startling a wild animal, and then strong arms snaked around Jack’s waist. He felt the solid press of Gabriel’s chest at his back and in spite of himself, soaked in the comfort of it.

“I shouldn’t do this,” he said, voice barely audible.

“Is it me you don’t trust? Or you?” Gabriel asked, perceptive as always.

Jack closed his eyes and swallowed, focusing on the tap of Gabriel’s heartbeat on his skin instead of answering.

“Hey…” Gabriel said gently.

Jack’s hackles rose and he stiffened. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m _not_. Jesus, do you have to prove how capable you are every single minute of the day?”

“Maybe I’m just defending myself against someone who’s proved himself untrustworthy.”

“Oh, for fuck’s—” Gabriel jerked Jack around to face him, recognizing that scowl from countless similar arguments they’d had. “Would you just listen to me?”

Though Jack didn’t stop him from chucking his shirt back on the floor, he folded his arms, a clear defense. Gabriel took hold of his elbows but then faltered, unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to say.

“Look, I know I manipulate people and I know there’s shit I did that that hurt you. I mean, you got your fair share of shots in too, but that’s beside the point. Yeah, okay, maybe you’ve got a reason not to 100% trust me 100% of the time and…”

Gabriel broke off with a frustrated sigh. The unexpectedly earnest expression on his face began to thaw Jack’s wall of ice.

“I…will almost certainly hurt you again,” Gabriel said, forcing the words out. “I will lie to you again and conceal things from you again if that’s what I need to do to do my job, but this? I will _never_ hurt you with this. Do you get that? This isn’t Overwatch or Blackwatch or Commander shit. This is just us.”

Stunned by the raw honesty, Jack searched his face. Gabriel hadn’t spoken to him like this since…He couldn’t remember. The early days of their relationship probably. Jack tamped down the urge to remind him how bad they both were at keeping their personal and professional lives separate, how it had played no small role in driving them apart, how Gabriel’s insistence that there remained a space for them to just be them was difficult to believe.

Jack couldn’t help asking: “What are you getting out of this?”

Gabriel gave him a bemused frown, the earnestness evaporating. “Awesome sex with someone I don’t have to worry about injuring?”

Jack nearly bristled at the blithe deflection – but then understanding struck him like lightning.

Gabriel craved this just as much as he did. And was somehow even worse than Jack at admitting it.

While Jack avoided articulating this desire, even in his own mind, Gabriel feigned nonchalance, pretended it was all fun and games, hid the depths of his desire beneath casual confidence.

Jack let out an incredulous huff and again extracted himself from Gabriel’s hold, walking over to where his pants lay in a crumpled heap.

Gabriel’s eyes drifted away and he bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the disappointment, his heart launching contingency plans to feel _anything_ else.

The sound of a belt sliding from its loops caught his attention.

Jack strolled back towards him, a knowing gleam in his eyes that Gabriel didn’t have time to decipher before he was pulled into a kiss. There was a self-assurance in it that turned Gabriel’s insides into molten heat. His pulse jumped when he felt smooth leather press into his palm, Jack’s fingers tangling with his.

Jack pulled back, the tip of his tongue lingering on one of his canines and his mouth barely brushing Gabriel’s, and then the slow tide of his words burned over Gabriel’s lips to brand his very soul.

“I want you to put that around my neck. And tighten it. And drag me around by it. And when you fuck me, I want you to yank on it.”

Eyes like blue fire trapped Gabriel’s wide gaze. His erection, which had flagged during their quarrel, throbbed against the top of Jack’s thigh, thick and hot even through his underwear. Jack slowly walked him backwards, his deep voice clawing shivers down Gabriel’s spine.

“You’re going to fuck me so hard, I can’t think. You’re going to make me drool into the sheets and scream until my throat’s raw. But first…you’re going to make me beg for it.”

Gabriel’s heels collided with the couch and he toppled backwards onto the cushions. Jack smoothly climbed on top of him, every word ratcheting up the fire consuming Gabriel’s body.

“And you’re going to leave me bruised and wrecked and dripping. Because you know you’re the only one who can.”

Throat dry, Gabriel swallowed and stared up at him.

“ _Fuck_.”

Jack smirked, wondering why he ever thought Gabriel held all the power in these games. Tilting his head, he stuck out his tongue and panted. His stomach gave a giddy flip as Gabriel’s awe gave way to a dark, wild sort of hunger.

“Sit,” Gabriel growled.

Sultry as a cat, Jack slid off the couch onto the floor to sit on his heels between Gabriel’s legs, keeping as much body contact as possible. His lips parted as Gabriel looped the leather belt around his neck, wove the strap through the buckle and pulled it snug, just short of cutting off airflow.

Jack’s eyelids sank closed, the blissful expression tugging hard at Gabriel’s heart. Dropping the makeshift leash, he cradled Jack’s face and hauled him into a passionate kiss. Half a whine stuck in Jack’s throat. Already he was puddling into something pliant and needy, and Gabriel _loved_ him for it.

By the time he drew back, Jack’s eyes were dark and glassy, his cheeks pink.

A broad hand cupped the back of his head and forced him down into Gabriel’s lap, crushing his face into the length straining against the fabric of Gabriel’s underwear. Gabriel couldn’t help grinding up into the pressure, hissing from how furiously hard he was.

Jack let out a ragged moan and parted his lips to mouth at him. He inhaled with relish, filling his nostrils with the smell of Gabriel’s sex, and hooked a hand around his thigh. His own cock pulsed, the tip sticky and dribbling, at the feel of leather pinching at his throat.

He’d have been content to nuzzle at Gabriel for hours, but the grip on the back of his head slid around to curve under his chin. Gabriel stood, tilting Jack’s gaze high.

“Come on, puppy,” Gabriel rumbled, voice low with desire.

He tugged at the end of the belt and Jack fought back a swift surge of embarrassment at being told to literally crawl. Repeating Gabriel’s reassurances silently to himself, he tried instead to focus on the tight pull of arousal in his groin, on how Gabriel measured his steps so Jack could keep pace on his knees, on the pleasure waiting for him in Gabriel’s bedroom.

Waking up after their tryst in the kitchen, Jack had been startled to find marks on his body. Not much lingered in their skin, only the most vicious of enemies and apparently one another. How many bruises had they smudged into each other over the years? Fingerprints identifying each other, all shades of purple and red, intense trails scoring their shoulders and waists and thighs.

Jack remembered gaping at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, mortified at how far he’d let Gabriel go. At how far he’d let himself go. But now, as his mind gave in to the hazy pleasant ease of following orders, Jack found he was eager for Gabriel’s rough palms and slick teeth to decorate him, patterns of proof that he wasn’t made for anyone else.

###

###

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terrible at writing pure porn LOL Poetic sentiment and character development and feelings always get in there somehow XD
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING!


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